


Hannigram Oneshots

by ValorTheNightmareStag



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Murder Family, Murder Husbands, Murder Wives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValorTheNightmareStag/pseuds/ValorTheNightmareStag
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Will Graham/Abigail Hobbs/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. ●Resting (fluff)●

The sound of clicking shoes, growing before halting just in front of the door. A slow and almost inaudible creak as the door was pushed open. Will rolled from his side onto his back, aqua eyes falling on the man in the doorway. A gentle smile tugged up in greeting, the sounds of shoes returning as the other stepped into the room. Shuffling replaced it as he shrugged off his coat, followed by shoes, a suit jacket, a tie, a vest.

"You should be asleep." The man spoke, sliding off his cufflinks and setting them in a bowl with the other pairs he owned.

"You know very well I find sleeping to be a... challenging task." Will returned, rubbing his hands over his face. The cool metal of a ring against his skin forced an involuntary grunt from within his chest. Despite the indescribably comfortable mattress, he had still found himself tossing and turning within the silken sheets.

"Did you attempt the methods I suggested?" He hummed, sliding off the button up. Shifting as he finished undressing, he pulled open the drawers to grab sleepwear.

"Made myself tea. Turned off screens, showered. Been trying the breathing thing, count sheep. Nothing." Will sighed, watching the other pull on the sweater and pajama pants. He rolled back onto his side as the other slid under the blankets. An arm slunk familiarly around his waist, within the moonlight he could see the other's head lowering onto his respective pillow.

"Get your mind off the task of sleeping. Anything that is potentially stress-inducing." The other hummed, gently tugging the younger man toward him. Will gave a slow exhale, breath ticking the other's neck.

"Easier said than done." Will grunted, tucking a hand under the pillow. His blue eyes met brown ones. Under the white light of the moon, the man's defined features stuck out. Will lost himself to a silent examination of the other's lineaments. The other's cheekbones and jawline seemed impossibly sharper under the light, dark eyes accentuated with a mahogany brown. Flecks of maroon glittered in their depths.

He was lost to the other's image, finding the other man being the only person he could manage sustained eye contact with. His silvering-blonde hair fell onto the pillow, giving the sense of domesticity that only Will got to see. The other man was handsome, not a soul could deny it, and Will still couldn't fathom that Hannibal Lecter was laid in bed with him. Blinking, he forced himself from his thoughts, noticing the other's eyebrow quirk up.

"Something wrong?' Hannibal spoke, breaking the comfortable silence. His hand pressed lightly to the other man's side, ghosting up and down the fabric of the shirt. Will could feel the warmth of the other seeping through the top, spreading through him. He gave a shake of his head, shifting forward.

He lightly rested his forehead against the other's chest, feeling the woolen material of the sweater against his skin. The closer he got, the more he melted into the heat of the man. Hannibal's hand slid up Will's side, gently running it through his curls. Will's chest fell with a content sigh, the sound of humming filling his ears.

"How was work? I assume something came up considering you were home late." Will finally spoke, tilting his head up toward the other.

"I do apologize for the late hour, mano meilė." The man spoke, his European accent drifting with a whisper in Will's ear. Though he knew the other didn't understand anything the man could say to him in Lithuanian, he could assume the other could piece together the words. Will's lips turned up in a smile, having heard the phase enough times to know the words meant 'my love'.

"Probably another reason I can't sleep. Grown too used to another presence. That isn't a dog, I mean." Will chuckled slightly, pressing a palm gently against the other's stomach. He felt the other tug him even closer, chests pressing together. Hannibal intertwined their legs, raising an eyebrow as the other slunk away suddenly.

"Jesus fucking-" Will cut off, lightly hitting the other's chest. "Your feet are freezing."

Hannibal's gaze flickered in amusement, resting a hand over his chest as he gave an exaggerated apology. Will shifted back toward the other, keeping his legs a distance from the other. Hannibal curled his arms back into place around Will, chin resting on top of the other's head of curls. Will closed his eyes, pressing his nose into the crook of the other's neck as he fused with his touch.

The two fell into simple small talk, speaking of friends, work, dogs, fishing, music, and any random topic they brought up. The fiancés submerged into intimacy, enjoying the warmth from being wrapped within a loving embrace. Eventually the two drifted off to sleep, leaving the room in a domestic silence that would greet them when they both awoke in the morning.


	2. ●Lingering Part 1 (Fluff)●

New Year's Eve. A week before, inspiration had struck. A night of hunting, displays, invitations, preparations. Another day filled with cooking their earned food. Everything led up to that last night of the year. The Lecter-Graham household was filled with a bustling group of guests, the two recently espoused among them.

Will stood on the staircase, only three or four up, giving him an eagle eye view of the people in his lounge. A shoulder leaned against the wall, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a champagne glass. On his third of the night, he took drinks periodically to gain the subtle buzz that would allow him to get through the party.

Without his glasses, the people among the crowd were blurry. Despite the lack of frames he could still recognize one thing among the sea of the higher-class. Charlatans, proud and mighty, that carried a strong sense of hidden despair. Fake laugher, fake smiles, fake happiness. Their small talk was agonizingly simple, interest disingenuous.

Will's gaze flicked around to each one, a few select words from select conversations floating around his head. He both admired and loathed these parties. His contempt was toward the gathering itself, hating every second of the bustling socialization. Gaze still raking through, his eyes landed on one person in particular that he held his gaze on.

The host, Hannibal Lecter-Graham stood among the crowd, completely at ease. He blended easily into the upper-class. This was where Will's admiration emerged, his fondness of the man resurfacing as he watched him from afar. His gaze flicked up the older man's frame, taking in every bit of him with his eyes almost hungrily.

The man's three-piece was a jet-black, silver accents and trimmings along the fabric of the jacket and tie. A finely pressed dress-shirt underneath, contrasting the black with an appealing white. A friendly smile, shaven face, gentle brown eyes, perfectly styled hair. The man was the male Will considered attractive, and the exact opposite of himself.

Will was downed in simple slacks, paired with a semi-wrinkled dress-shirt. The top two buttons were undone, only adding to his disheveled look. A standoffish scowl, thickened scruff, sharp blue eyes, and a head of eternally messy curls. Despite his efforts, a few strays curls still stuck out over his forehead. It amazed Will to no end how someone as high as Hannibal had chosen him.

He tossed back another drink of his champagne, the fizz clinging to his tongue uncomfortably. Champagne was far from his drink of choice, preferring the smooth texture and sharp taste of whiskey. If they were to spend the last day of the year together, Will's ideal would be curled on the couch with a glass of said whiskey, accompanied by his pack of strays and his husband.

Despite his desire, he stood on the staircase, staring harshly over the guests like a predator eyeing its prey. Will had no intention to pounce, preferring to remain on the outskirts without interaction. As his husband stepped within hearing distance and was greeted by a different guest, Will turned his head to tune in.

"Hannibal! It's been way too long!" The woman greeted with a fabricated grin.

"Most certainly has, Delilah." Hannibal returned, taking the other's hand and gently pressing his lips to her knuckles. Will hid a scoff with another drink of his champagne.

"It was wonderful to receive an invite, nothing like wrapping up the year with your delicious cooking." Delilah hummed, pulling her hand from the others grasp after a second.

"I am very glad it's to your liking. My spouse and I worked hard in preparation." The psychiatrist informed, lifting his glass and drawing attention to the cobalt wedding band around his finger. Her eyes widened in realization.

"Oh I almost forgot, you're recently married aren't you? I must give my congratulations." She lifted her glass as well, taking a brief sip as the other gave a nod of appreciation. "Tell me, is the missus among the crowd?" Delilah lifted her head, gaze sweeping among the heads of people.

Will's gaze met Hannibal's. The other's expression turned up, beckoning him to his side. Will gave a glare in response, almost pleading him not to drag him into conversation. Hannibal's eyebrow raised in expectancy, unwavering. He knew if he showed true signs of distress, he wouldn't be forced; as he hadn't said a word to any guest the rest of the evening, he begrudgingly stepped into the crowd and toward his husband.

He stopped at his side, gaze turning up quickly at the feeling of an arm wrapping around his waist. Hannibal gave a smile, gently squeezing his hand over the other's hip. Will clenched his jaw, his disdain for public affection showing clearly in his eyes. Alone, he would lean into the touch, but in front of Delilah's prying gaze he wanted to pull away.

"Delilah, meet Will. My other half." Hannibal introduced sweetly as Will settled into the touch with a resentful grunt. The woman gave an overly-bright smile, holding out her hand. He briefly shook Delilah's hand, giving a curt nod in response. "Yeah, hi." He muttered, taking another drink in hopes of increasing the intoxication.

"Congratulations, the both of you. So nice to see you've found someone, Hannibal." Delilah spoke, nodding toward each before wandering off for more small talk. Will swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, looking up at the older man.

"Fairly brief, and rude." Hannibal commented, though his accent was laced with humor.

"Guess you'll just have to eat me." Will returned, matching the tease with a knowing and playful glare. Hannibal gave a deep chuckle, the sound forcing Will to suppress a shudder. Another thing he both cherished and detested, just how easily the other man could make him unravel. The two looked up from each other at the sudden commotion among the crowd.

An ecstatic countdown from the guest, marking the ending seconds of the year. Will downed the final drink of champagne, setting the glass on a side table before looking back up at Hannibal. The other used his grip on Will to tug him to his chest. Will scoffed slightly, lightly hitting the other's chest.

"Tugging me around like a rag doll." He muttered, watching as Hannibal rested their foreheads against each other. The synchronized counting filled the parlor. Will tilted his head up slightly, feeling the other's gentle breath against his lips. Though this would be a display, everyone else was focused on pairing up and their own New Years Kiss and wouldn't pay mind to the married couple.

Just as a cheer erupted, Hannibal connected the small gap between them. Will leaned into the gentle yet firm pressure of the other's lips against his own, applying some of his. A warmth, a now familiar happiness, spread its way through his chest. He allowed himself to be immersed in the feeling of the other against him, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of his suit jacket.

Will was the one to break the kiss after a long minute, feeling the other chase after him. The corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile, eyes meeting Hannibal's as they both slid them open. Talking continued as everyone began finishing their drinks and food, moving down the hall to grab their coats.

"I'll see you upstairs." Will whispered, though Hannibal easily picked up on the syllables. A final and brief kiss before Will pulled himself from the other's grasp. He'd linger, an obvious tease, brushing their lips together and his fingers against the other's chest before giving an almost suggestive smile. Stepping up the stairs, he could feel his husband gaze on him each step of the way. On the final step, he flicked his gaze toward the other. He gave a smirk at the look in the other's eyes, before he disappeared into the shadows of the upstairs.


	3. ●Lingering Part 2 (Smut)●

Will made his way down the hall and toward his room. He turned the knob, the dogs inside scrambling to escape their confined quarters. The man knelt, holding out his hand in a greeting. The canines scrambled around their owner, sniffing and licking the man eagerly. He ran his hands through the dog fur, a smile flickering onto his face.

As the dogs began to wander away to find unconventional places to sleep among the large house, Will stood and moved into the room. His hand moved to click on the lamp, the light illuminating with the yellow-orange light.

The bustle downstairs was beginning to die down, and soon Hannibal would be up to join him. He stepped around the bed, hand running along the satin sheets as he made his way to his dresser. His hands moved to unbutton the dress shirt as a set of footsteps made their way upstairs. The noise halted as he slid the fabric off his shoulders.

There was a presence in the doorway, though Will's back was to the person. He knew from the sound of the exhale it was his husband, who had most likely stopped in the door frame to admire Will. Indeed, the other man was staring. Hannibal slid his suit jacket off, laying it neatly over his own dresser.

His gaze flicked over the younger man's backside, taking in each line and curve the man possessed. Hannibal had memorized each part of the man, could sketch him easily, but he always loved to see it physically. Will tossed the dress shirt in the general vicinity of the laundry basket. As he began to work on his belt, he felt a pair of smooth hands running down his sides and to his hips.

He paid no mind, very easily presenting the doctor with a tease. A quiet grunt of frustration from the latter, before lips connected with his pale skin. Hands continued to wander his framework, always returning to his hips and giving a gentle squeeze each time. Will's mouth turned up in an involuntary smile as he did his best to ignore the advance.

He pulled the belt through the last loophole, folding it and setting it on the wooden dresser. Fingers slid through the holes, tugging him back toward the large bed. Will found himself falling back onto the sheets, Hannibal on top of him before he could continue to undress upright.

"God you're needy." Will finally acknowledged, wrapping his arms around the others neck with a roll of his eyes. Their eyes met, Will seeing the love, lust, and desire within the maroon depths. He gave in, closing the gap and being met with a heated kiss.

His head tilted up, hands running through the silvering-blonde hair. The older man's hands once again began to ghost over his torso. Bodies pressed together, Will could feel a heat begin to flush over him at a rapid pace. They pulled away, Hannibal looking down at him to admire the red tint to the formerly pale skin.

"I only desire you, my dear Will." Hannibal returned, peppering kisses to the others jawline. The other's accent was thick, and raspy with fervor. The sound washed over Will, traveling straight to his groin. The latter gave a tense exhale as the kisses began to travel to his throat.

Hannibal's nose pressed lightly into the crook of his neck, pausing his shower of affection. He could feel the others pulse, the light beating of the younger man's heart. The beat was rhythmic, yet elevated due to the close proximity of the two men. At the sound of an impatient grunt from his husband, he lightly bit down.

The other tensed with a gasp, grip on Hannibal's hair tightening. His teeth pressed into the skin, though not enough to tear it. As much as he would love to, the younger would snap at him later for making such an obvious mark; though he'd still get a mutter of complaint at the bite mark itself. Slowly he released his teeth, moving to the man's shoulder.

"We'll be into the next year at this pace." Will muttered under his breath, loosening the other's tie. Hannibal bit down once again, earning a breathy sound from the man under him. He was forced to pull away from the other when the latter tugged his tie over his head. The fabric was tossed away carelessly, Hannibal knowing well he'd have to pick it up later.

Hannibal continued his assault on the other's neck and shoulders as the other began to unbutton his shirt. Each mark on the other's white skin was met with a throaty grunt or a gasp. Soon the fabric of his shirt was being pushed off, leaving his torso bare. Will ran his hand over the other's front, fingers tangling in the bush of chest hair. Their lips met once again, Will's hips pressing up as the other undid the button and slid them off.

"And you say I'm the one in need." Hannibal whispered against the other's lips when they pulled apart. His response was a playful and eager glare. He slid his hand gently over the latter's lowers, receiving a guttural moan when he provided the needed friction. When he pulled away to slide off his own belt and trousers, the younger man's hips chased after his hand. The linger from Hannibal made Will's yearning for the man spike.

Will bit the inside of his cheek; Watching the other glide down the slacks and lean back over the other in the final thin layer made him impossibly harder. Each time, despite his teasing in the beginning and snarky remarks, Hannibal always managed to get desperation etched into the man's expression. The doctor believed it was a beautiful sight, to see the other like this. The marks on his skin stuck out brightly, skin a delectable pink, and his blue eyes blown black with desire.

A final tug, and the man below him was completely presented to him. Hannibal's head moved down, ghosting his lips over the other's torso. Will felt himself twitch at the sight of the other moving down. The other grinned lightly against his skin, stopping just above the other's lowers.

"I swear, Hannibal, if you don't get a move on-"

The man immediately cut off at the feeling of a wet tongue over his tip. A moan sounded through the room, Will taking a few seconds to realize the lewd sound had erupted from him. His chest heaved as the other trailed his tongue up and down, sparks of pleasure flickering through him each time the older man reached his tip. The latter was teasing, lingering on each part of the other.

Hannibal enjoyed this, the sounds and the movement from the other underneath him. The taste and smell of the other was heavenly, gladly wrapping his lips around the tip. The other gave a high pitched sound in acceptance, Hannibal pausing to smile before pushing the other further into his mouth. Will bucked up, though his husband had predicted it and lifted his head with the movement to avoid choking.

A desperate groan, a beg for the other to do something to bring him closer to the edge. Hannibal worked his mouth around the other, his encouragement being the younger man's delicious moans. Hands traveled and gripped onto the blonde strands of the man over his lowers. Will gave a strangled moan, and just as he began his rise to the top, the pleasure disappeared.

Sweat was covering Will, causing his dark curls to cling to his forehead. He grasped the other's hair as Hannibal connected their lips. A tongue breached his lips, moving carefully around the cave of his mouth. Will tilted his head up, the taste of himself spreading across his taste buds.

Will trailed his head down the other's torso as Hannibal reached for the nightstand. He lightly ran his fingers through the chest hair once again, the peach fuzz texture brushing against his palms. He pressed his lips lightly into the toned skin, listening to the other purposely fumble with the bottle. Will slid up a knee, pressing it against the other's tent. A groan, deep and guttural, sounded from the man above him.

He felt the other pull back, the bottle of lubricant in his hand. Will twitched once again, excitement and impatience flashing through him as the other clicked open the lid. His gaze watched the other expectantly. Hannibal's mouth flicked up in a smirk, slowly spreading the liquid over his fingers. He lingered, teased, before leaning over the other. His smirk widened at the feeling of the other's breath hitching.

Hannibal began to pepper kisses along the other's torso, lowering a hand to Will's lowers. Will hissed in discomfort as a finger pushed into his tight ring of muscle. Though this wasn't the first time he'd been placed in this position, the intrusion always succumbed to uncomfort before pleasure. Soon another digit was inserted, pushing and stretching him open.

Will felt the other's hand shift just before the expected explosion of pleasure rocketed through his body. Another erotic noise filled the bedroom as Will's back arched off the bed. Hannibal's lips turned up in a slight smile, angling his hand to once again brush against the spot. He pushed apart his fingers, working at his original task. Will's chest heaved as a third finger pushed in, clutching at the satin sheets below. As he once against began to rise to the peak, the pleasure and intrusion disappeared.

His head fell back against the mattress, stopping to catch his breath. Hannibal grabbed the bottle once again, delaying to take off his undergarments and admire the other. Will already looked spent, sweat causing his curls to cling to his forehead and his appendage twitching against his stomach in anticipation. Hannibal exhaled slowly at the sight, turning back to his effort. Clicking open the lube, he slowly spread the liquid over himself.

Will's breath caught in his throat as the other positioned himself, biting the inside of his lip. He gasped as the other slid to the hilt, aqua orbs rolling back into his head. Hannibal halted, pubic bone to pubic bone, as he watched the other adjust to the feeling. Will lifted himself off the mattress, shifting in a signal for the other to move.

Hannibal moved, bringing himself in and out of the other with a low groan. Will gave a hiss in return, waiting for the pain to devolve into pleasure. Moans, grunts, heavy breathing, and the sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room. The two were connected, blended into each other, with nothing covered or hidden. Both clung to one another, enjoying each sound and movement they produced.

Will threw his head back as the man once again brushed a certain spot. His vision began to white out as the other angled himself for precision. Each push into the other pressed into that rewarding spot, Will squirming against the other's chest. The rise to the top began once again, and with the other's lingering and teasing gone he grew closer and closer. His short nails dug into Hannibal's shoulders as he released.

Strings of pleasure shot onto the stomachs of the two men, a low-pitched moan bursting from his chest. The other man continued to rock into the other, pushing him through the release with a strand of groans. Hannibal pressed his face into Will's neck, inhaling deeply with a guttural grouse as he released deep in the other.

The younger man fell back onto the sheets breathing heavily. Will blew air through his teeth at the feeling of the other pulled out slowly. The liquid began to run out of him, discomfort replacing the pleasure once again. Hannibal pulled himself out of the bed, and after grabbing a washcloth, cleaned up the remnants of their excitement. As Will began to drift off, he felt arms wrapping around him and pulling him close. A content sigh, relaxing into the touch, and the two drifted off into a state of unconsciousness.


	4. ●Calming (fluff)●

A calm and silent fall night. The only sound that filled the bedroom was quiet and shallow breathing that was thick with sleep. Hannibal and Will were laid across the large mattress, a distinct gap between them. As insisted by Will, the two laid separate.

Will was worried about waking the other with his still prevalent nightmares. He had been hesitant to even lay on the silken sheets in fear of drenching them with expected sweat. Hannibal had complied, though he insisted that the nightmares and sweat wouldn't be an issue. Even so, the two laid apart, drifting off into unconsciousness.

The night had been peaceful, that is until the slow breathing of Will began to pick up pace. Images flashed among the man's sleeping mind, causing the harmonious sleep to build into panic. Will rolled onto his back, chest heaving with his rapid breathing. As usual, sweat began to cover the man at an accelerated pace.

Thrashing, as if trying to hit away the panic inducing thoughts. He shook rapidly, quiet cries and mutters flying from his lips. Hannibal was awoken with a sudden yet painless hit to his side. Peeling his eyes open, he recognized the sight of Will through dazed and half-asleep eyes.

He propped himself up on an elbow just as Will bolted upright, a loud shout echoing through the dark room. Will lifted his hands, gripping onto his curls tightly as tears mixed with his alarmed derived sweat. Hannibal lifted a hand, gently placing it on the others back only to have the other flinch away.

Will's bloodshot and puffy eyes turned toward the source of the touch, hands rapidly wiping at the tears as he began to regain his sense of stability. Realization at where he was, who he was with, flooded into his mind. A broken apology flew through his lips involuntarily, falling back and groaning at the feeling of a patch of sweat already on the sheets.

Hannibal sat up further, helping the other peel off the perspiration covered shirt and tossing it into his laundry basket. He gave reassurance of the apology being unneeded as he shifted closer to the other. Will have an unintelligible protest, a few sporadic words about sweat and a stain.

"The sweat is far from a problem." Hannibal spoke gently. Resting his head on the pillow next to the other's, he wrapped an arm securely around his waist. He could feel the sudor through the cloth of his sweater, but made no mention or acknowledgment.

Will gave in, too tired to protest, rolling back onto his side and facing the other. His dark brown curls clung to his forehead, the feeling of moisture uncomfortably covering his skin. His tired eyes met Hannibal's equally exhausted ones, mouth open to utter another apology.

Hannibal closed the gap between them, silencing the other with a soft and brief kiss. Will leaned into the touch, hand lifting toward the others cheek.

"As I said before. The sweat and being awoken is not an issue." Hannibal whispered quietly, not expecting a vocal reply. Will's head shifted in a slight nod, pressing his lips to the others again. His thumb caressed the older man's sharp cheekbone, applying a soft and almost shy pressure.

Hannibal's mouth moved in sync with his own, giving Will a sense of stability and care. The two laid together, exchanging slow and gentle kisses. Will eventually was completely calmed. Hannibal's hands moved up and down the others back in a slight massage. They settled back down after a few minutes, keeping their lips barely an inch apart. Drifting off into each other's arms, the previous tranquility of the night began to settle back over them.


	5. ●Teaming (Fluff/Bit Angsty)●

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: 
> 
> Blood
> 
> Death/Murder
> 
> Mention of Strangulation

Hannibal stepped into the dining room, gently clicking the door shut behind him. He slid his gloves off, halting at the scents that assaulted his sharp sense. Blood, metallic and familiar. Death, fresh and promising that hovered in the air. And aftershave, an overly woodsy and cheap scent that was all to mundane. As he finally turned to face the table, gaze meeting a pair of aqua hued orbs.

Will stood at the head of the table, wrapped in a coat and a scarf with his own gaze down at the table. His knuckles were visibly bloody, fingers clenched up in a fist. Hannibal trailed his gaze down after the other, recognizing the body of Randall Tier. Blood stained his face, eyes dull and lifeless as he laid still on the dining table.

"I'd say this makes us even." Will finally spoke, tearing his eyes up to meet Hannibal's. "I sent someone to kill you... you sent someone to kill me... Even Steven."

Hannibal didn't give a vocal reply, rather making his way to the dining room to gather medicinal supplies. Sliding off his coat and setting his gloves on the counter, Will stepped after him. He undid his suit jacket, the article following his coat. The other's attention remained intent on him as he gathered a bowl of antiseptic and bandages. The two settled themselves at the counter, Will removing his scarf and coat.

The doctor rolled up his sleeves, gently tucking his hands under the other's. The knuckles were stained with blood and split open; whether the blood was Will's or Randall's, Hannibal wasn't sure. He brought the other's hand down into the antiseptic, the stains seeping into the clear liquid. The other's eyes flashed in what could be registered as pain and discomfort. His knuckles ached at the sting from the disinfectant.

Hannibal gently ran his thumb over the knuckles, wiping away the blood. The liquid became a dulled pink. His head tilted, shifting into a better angle to rub the preservative into the knuckles. He could feel the other's gaze on him, boring into the side of his head. Will's blue irises had shrunk, blown black with his pupils from what Hannibal assumed to be leftover adrenaline.

"Polite society normally places such a taboo on taking a life." Will spoke, looking down as the other switched his hands in the solution.

"Without death, we'd be at a loss." Hannibal returned, turning his gaze briefly up to the other man. "It's the prospect of death that drives us to greatness."

A response didn't follow, Will merely reaching for a towel to wipe off the excess antiseptic. Hannibal continued his task, cleaning the wounds and allowing the other to wipe off his hands. He grabbed the roll of bandages, resting his palm under the other's. The touch caused warmth to spread through his hand, blossoming from the place of contact.

"Did you kill him with your hands?" The psychiatrist questioned, gingerly wrapping the gauze bandages around the other's knuckles.

"It was... intimate." Will answered, staring down at their hands. He didn't seem uncomfortable with the closeness, rather leaned into it.

"It deserves intimacy. You were Randall Tier's last enemy." Hannibal hummed, cutting the gauze and taping it down. He shifted to the other hand, long and steady fingers curled around Will's hand. The other's gaze fell to the counter, seemingly dazing off. A gentle sigh, a burst of air that brushed their hands.

"Don't go inside, Will. You'll want to retreat." He continued, watching as the other turned to meet his gaze. "You'll want it as the glint of the rail tempts us when we hear the approaching train. Stay with me."

"Where else would I go?" Will questioned, his voice just above a whisper. Their faces were excruciatingly close, the slow exhales from both close enough to feel. A gentle warmth with each one, almost pulling them closer. A small smile twitched onto Hannibal's lips.

"You have everywhere to go." Hannibal rested a hand over the other's, careful not to agitate the wrappings or the man's wounds. "You should be quite pleased."

"I am." The words followed smoothly after the other. It seeped with genuinity, and Hannibal could feel a slight burst of pride. The man before him was shaping up to be just as lethal as Hannibal himself was.

"Of course you are. When you killed Randall... did you fantasize you were killing me?" He inquired, lifting his other hand to brush the other's curls from his eyes. Taking the silence the other provided as a 'yes', he opened his mouth to talk again. "Most of what we do, most of what we believe, is motivated by death."

"I've never felt as alive as I did when I was killing him." Will muttered. And it was true. Something in him recoiled, knowing well he shouldn't have found such pleasure in taking Randall's life. Here, in this moment with Hannibal, he was conflicted. He had the plan, he was the bait to lure Hannibal into a cell. Yet standing with him now, hand in hand, he wanted to abandon any idea.

Will still hated the man in front of him, rage still burned deep in his stomach after the hell he had been put through. Now, with the other's smooth skin on his, that rage and fire was beginning to die. It was being replaced by something Will promised himself to never feel. Something he shouldn't feel toward a brutal killer and cannibal, yet now he was a killer himself.

"Then you owe Randall Tier a debt." Hannibal's thick accent broke through his thoughts as he slowly turned his head up. "How will you repay him?"

His gaze flicked down toward the other's lips. An urge to strangle the man in front of him jolted forward. Yet another urge followed, tackling the murderous desire like a dog pouncing a rabbit. The desire to kiss the man, the desire to have contact, the desire to have his own pale skin on Hannibal's naturally sunkissed skin. That was the urge that sprang forward before he could process his thoughts.

A chaste kiss, agonizingly short, rendering Hannibal frozen in surprise. Regret immediately replaced the mess of emotions he was feeling. He rarely read people wrong, but from the stoic look of surprise on the other man's face he was certain he had. That was until a slow smile spread over the other's defined features, the action meeting his eyes for one of the first times since they had met.

Another act of impulse, his free hand wandering to the other's cheek. The two leaned forward, stopping when there was a small gap between. Will could feel the other's breath against his lips, and was certain Hannibal felt the same. Before uncertainty or insecurity could creep into his mind, he closed the gap.

The other's lips felt smooth against his own chapped ones. The two melted together with a gentle force, sets of eyes fluttering shut. He felt like he was in a hurricane, the world around him whipping with sharp winds and angry howls. Yet here he was in the center, Hannibal being his anchor in that storm. He felt a hand trail slowly up his forearm.

Will's head slowly tilted, forcing the kiss to deepen. His thumb brushed against the other's sharp cheekbone, warmth spreading through his chest. The feeling traveled over his body like sparks of electricity, only making him want more of the psychiatrist in front of him. Lack of air was the heinous thing that forced them apart.

The two slid their eyelids open, staring into the other's eyes as they caught their breath. A smile found itself on Hannibal's lips, and Will couldn't help but reciprocate. He kept still, forehead resting against the other's as he couldn't bring himself to pull away just yet.

At this moment, he knew he couldn't give this man up to the officials. He couldn't see this man in a cell, wrapped in a plain jumpsuit and an excruciatingly polite smile. He couldn't take this man's life and deal with the consequences later. He couldn't live with this man, but he couldn't live without him either.

This meant the bait would have to begin to lure in a different fish. And to do that, he would have to take care of the body on the table. Standing in the other's arms, he felt content and powerful. He had no idea what their future held for them, but he was beyond longing to get his hands dirty again. As he stared into the other's eyes, he'd give this killer what he wanted. A true partner in crime.


	6. ●Meeting (RRAU)●

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: 
> 
> Mentions of death/murder and cannibalism 
> 
> ~Disclaimer~ 
> 
> This is a role reversal fic because I wanted to experiment. Which means Will is still a sassy ass and Hannibal is still a cocky bastard just a little more shut off, but Will is now the psychopathic cannibal and Hannibal is the sweaty empath. ENJOY

Will stepped carefully around the office, gaze beginning to flick around aimlessly. He set his paper coffee cup down on Jack's desk, making his way to the latter stationed in front of a corkboard. He lightly brushed his suit jacket aside, sliding his hand in a pocket. Having dressed down from a usual rumpled suit, a presentable sweater, slacks, and jacket he had thrown on seemed well enough for the events of the day.

The doctor flicked his aqua orbs over the map with little to no enthusiasm, feeling the presence of another move up behind him. He chose not to acknowledge it for the time being, splitting his attention between Jack and the map. Red dots accentuated themselves on the aerial view of the streets. Pictures of eight different girls, all eerily similar, sat next to the points to establish where they had been taken.

"How many confessions have there been?" Will finally spoke, flicking his gaze toward Agent Crawford.

"Twelve dozen last I checked. None of them had details until this morning, and then all of them did." Jack's voice sounded in a sigh as he turned away from the board. Will followed suit, though kept his gaze intent on the man. "Some genius took a photo of Elise Nichols' body and shared it with friends. Freddie Lounds jumped and posted it to Tattlecrime.com."

Will gave a nod, stepping back toward the desk and settling in one of the chairs. He pulled the coffee off the table, finally acknowledging the presence. A man, tall and rather broad, stood with his back to Will as he examined the map. A brown button down, tucked into gray slacks. The other turned around to face the two with a shake of his head, moving toward the second chair.

"Tasteless." The man muttered, falling into the chair. Will could feel interest build the longer he looked at the man. Dirty blonde hair, streaked with gray from age, hung slightly in the man's eyes. A pair of glasses placed themselves on his nose, hiding a pair of brown depths that glittered with maroon flecks.

"Do you have trouble with taste?" Will questioned, keeping his gaze trained on the other as he lifted his own cup. Another shake of the man's head followed.

"My thoughts are not often 'tasty'." The man returned. Will slowly took a drink, realization settling into his head. The sides of his mouth twitched up in a smile, shifting his approach when he remembered his task at hand. Provide a psychological profile of Hannibal Lecter.

"Neither are mine. No effective barriers." Will spoke, crossing his ankles under the chair.

"I build forts." Hannibal nodded, picking up his own cup of coffee. His voice was a low and smooth rumble as he spoke, tone stuck in a brief and polite tone.

"Associations come quickly." He rubbed a thumb over his cup, feeling the warmth from the liquid seep through the material and to his hand.

"So do forts." The other gave him no more than a glance, keeping his gaze in Jack's general direction. He spoke in painfully short answers, giving Will little to work with and analyze.

"Not fond of eye contact, are you?" He inquired, noticing the other's shoulders tense under the fabric of his shirt. The man shifted to half face him, resting his cup back on the desk.

"Eyes are distracting. You often see too much, or you don't see enough." Hannibal's eyes turned up to lock with Will's, his jaw clenching subtly. "Often hard to focus with thoughts running through your head. Like, 'Oh those whites are really white', or 'He must have hepatitis', or 'Is that a burst vein?'."

Will gave a smile, staring into the dark depths of the other's eyes. The flecks of maroon were much more prominent than before, a slight gloss to the orbs. The man's sharp jaw and cheekbones, the fringe falling into his eyes, and the light gray stubble sculpted a beauty like none Will had ever seen.

"So, I tend to avoid eyes whenever possible." The man closed, tearing his gaze away from the other's. Hannibal flipped open a folder, an attempt to ignore the prying gaze on him. "Jack?"

The agent perked up, raising an eyebrow. Will opened his mouth to speak once again, Jack's closing to allow the doctor's words to flow without interruption.

"I imagine what you see and learn touches every part of your mind." Will began, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. "Your values, decency are there and are disgusted by the associations you find. No forts in your skull for things you love."

Hannibal froze, letting the folder fall shut. His gaze snapped back up to the doctor, who held a seemingly smug smirk. Will could see the discomfort clearly etched into the man's expression.

"Who's profile are you working on, Doctor?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow at Will's silence. His head turned back toward Jack. "Who's profile is he working on?"

"I'm sorry, Hannibal. Observing is what I do. Can't shut mine off anymore than you can shut yours off." Will gave an apologetic nod, though no remorse sounded in his tone.

"Please. Do not psychoanalyze me. I tend to be... unenjoyable when I'm psychoanalyzed." Hannibal spoke, obviously holding back an irritated glare toward the doctor. Will lifted his coffee to his lips, taking a slow drink as he watched the other from the corner of his eyes.

"Hannibal." Jack jumped in, his tone almost a scold toward the special agent.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a lecture to teach. On psychoanalyzing." Hannibal shook his head, pushing himself from the chair. He scrambled to grab his jacket and bag, quickly pushing himself from the office before the head agent could protest. Will turned his attention to Jack as the other sighed.

"Perhaps we shouldn't poke him like that Dr. Graham. Maybe uh, less direct approach." Jack spoke, a slight irritation to his own tone. Whether the irritation was aimed at Will for scaring Hannibal off, or Hannibal for dashing off, the doctor wasn't sure.

"What he has is pure empathy." Will ignored the annoyed comment, showing the agent he had no issue with flustering the man to this degree with a flat tone. "He could assume your point of view, mine, and some points of view that terrify him. An uncomfortable gift to have, Jack."

The agent tilted his head as he listened to the doctor's words. Will leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He would continue when the other lacked in response.

"Perception is a tool pointed on both ends. This cannibal you have him getting to know... I think I can help good Hannibal see his face." He gave a slow smile, aqua hues flashing in a dull burst of excitement. Plans began to swarm in his head as he stood, giving a curt nod toward Jack before he stepped out of the office.


	7. ●Forgiving Part 1 (Fluff/Slight Smut)●

He shouldn't be here. The words echoed precariously in his mind. Yet he was. After a dinner with Alana Bloom and Hannibal Lecter, he was sitting in Hannibal's office and not Alana. He was settled next to The Chesapeake Ripper, a glass of whiskey in his hand as they warmed themselves in front of the fire.

Will lifted the glass to his mouth, taking a long drink of the whiskey. The alcohol tasted expensive and nothing like the sharp taste of his preferred Jack Daniel's. Hannibal was next to him, a glass of wine rather than whiskey wrapped in his palm. The two sat in a relatively comfortable silence, listening to the crackling of the fire. And as Will sat, his mind urged him to leave.

He should have left just after Alana, if not before. The dinner had been cold and awkward, presenting the former interests with a tense aura. Jealousy had swarmed in Will's mind the entire meal. He shook his head slightly at himself. Not jealousy, anger in her obliviousness, he tried to convince himself. He wasn't jealous of Alana Bloom or Hannibal Lecter.

He shifted, crossing his ankles and resting his elbow back on the armrest. He should make an excuse. Claim he had to attend to his dogs and didn't want to be out late. Yet with the whiskey in his system he couldn't drive the long way back home. He was torn, he wanted to stay for reasons he didn't quite understand and he knew he should leave for reasons he did.

Hannibal Lecter was The Chesapeake Ripper. A brutal serial killer and cannibal. Will silently wondered who they had eaten tonight. He also wondered why that didn't make his stomach turn. His mind immediately flashed back toward Freddie Lounds. After the murder of Randall Tier, Hannibal assisted in patching his knuckles and advised him to pay his debt to Tier.

Then the death of Freddie Lounds. The journalist wasn't supposed to die, rather the end up was supposed to be faked in a means of tricking Hannibal. It would be an extra piece of the puzzle that came with being the lure. Yet, in a moment of adrenaline and desire, he bashed in her skull with a crowbar. After taking a piece of her side and setting her up for one final fiery moment, he ate a dinner with Hannibal using that piece. That's why his stomach didn't turn.

Will slowly trailed his gaze up to the man next to him. The chairs were tilted toward the fire, allowing a view of the latter's front and side profile. In the light of the fire, Will would compare him to the devil.

Hannibal was downed in a creaseless black and red suit and shining dress shoes. His long, calloused fingers wrapped around the stem of the wine glass. His sun-kissed skin was lit up orange in the fire light, dirty blond hair streaked with aged gray seeming darker with the shadows. Typically accentuated maroon eyes were black. A slight smirk quirked onto the man's lips as he lifted the wine glass to hide it.

Will immediately tore his gaze down. He had been staring, and Hannibal had certainly noticed. Will gripped onto the whiskey glass and downed another drink as the other cleared his throat.

"The roads will end up getting icy with time, and the alcohol in your system would impair your driving. My guest room is open for you." Hannibal finally broke the silence, tearing his blackened gaze to Will.

"You let Alana go home after two glasses of wine." Will commented, narrowing his gaze onto his shoe. He needed to avoid locking eyes with the other man, picturing the smug look in his gaze when he was caught staring.

"The roads were fine when Alana made her departure, and her drive isn't nearly as long as yours. I trust she is able to determine when she is to impaired to drive." The doctor returned.

"And I can't be trusted?" He raised an eyebrow, slowly flicking his gaze up to the other. With the subtle buzz from the whiskey worming around his head, he knew at this point he was being stubborn.

"Not what I'm implying at all. Merely suggesting the option I deem is safer." Hannibal gave a soft smile. His tone was still smooth, patient. Will wanted to push the topic, wanted to annoy the man and toy with him.

"Why did I stay in the first place?" Will shifted the conversation, jaw clenching slightly at the thought of things being reversed.

"I offered you a drink and Alana needed to be home in order to get proper sleep for work." Hannibal returned, receiving a glare from the latter.

"I mean... why is your 'not-friend' here and why isn't your girlfriend?" He spat, stomach clenching as he muttered the last word. Another wave of what Will promised to himself wasn't jealousy.

"Alana is not my partner, or rather not an official partner. And I enjoy having your company." Hannibal nodded, wetting his mouth once again with the red liquid in his glass. The feeling that was certainly not jealousy diminished with the words.

He gave a huff, downing the last of the whiskey before pushing himself from the chair. Making his way to the desk, he took the whiskey tumbler in his hand and poured more for himself. He could feel the man's gaze intent on him. This could be a fatal move, during his back to the beast. The devil. The Ripper. Yet Alana survived being in the belly of this beast. Will wondered if he could as well.

The sounds of footsteps broke him from his thoughts, and he turned around to face the other. In expectation, he gripped the glass in his hands. The grip faltered when he realised there was no murderous intent behind the movement. He shifted, resting a thigh on the edge of the desk in a matter of sitting. His gaze slowly trailed up the man's frame, ending at his eyes.

Hannibal gently caressed the cool glass with a thumb, gaze unwavering as they stared each other down. Will took note of the close proximity, a heat pooling in his stomach. Their knees were brushing, and as they two lowered their glasses they hands did as well. The touch sent sparks through Will, the heat from his belly spreading across his body.

He was close enough to grab him, wrap his fingers around the man's throat, and squeeze. Will could act now, bringing his previous fantasies to life. He could grip and watch the life slowly leave this monster's eyes. That's the events that he went through in his head.

His hands lifted, wrapping around and pressing into the side of the others throat. The latter's eyes flashed in surprise, his own hands lifting to struggle against the pressure. Will remained firm, keeping his hands in place as he leaned into the other. It wasn't until he felt the reciprocating press of Hannibal's lips against his own when he realized what he actually did.

Will Graham was kissing Hannibal Lecter. The Chesapeake Ripper. Not Alana Bloom. His hands were in fact wrapped around the back of Hannibal's neck, pressing him down into a slight hunched position to be able to reach from his sitting position. Their lips moved together like a song in perfect harmony, allowing both to relinquish every feeling about the other they've had.

He could feel a pair of hands slink around him, one moving to tangle in his curls as the other resting on his hip. Warmth spread from the points of contact, the euphoric feeling overwhelming his senses. With the burning in his lungs, they were forced to pull away; need for air being the culprit.

Will slid his eyes open, gaze meeting the latter's. They stared and breathed, tickling each other with the sensation. Hannibal's fingers tightened on the other's curls as he regathered what he could of his composure.

"What are we doing...?" Will muttered, their lips still barely an inch apart. "Alana and you... you're..."

Hannibal cut him off with another kiss. Gentle, loving, and chaste. Will thought back to his own kiss with Bloom, the sensation being nothing compared to the present moment. The kiss was enough to satisfy him, echoing with unspoken words. Hannibal's true feelings lay with Will.

Will hadn't imagined this turn of events, not in all the moments he's fantasized. He hadn't foreseen himself in Hannibal's office, lightly pressed against a desk making out like teenagers; nor did he imagine he'd enjoy the feeling of Hannibal against him.

They pulled apart again, breathing harder than the first time. Both of their eyes were blown black with desire. With love. With lust. Will felt his slacks tighten as the hand on his hip shifted slowly to his inner thigh.

"Perhaps we should migrate somewhere else." Hannibal spoke, his accent thicker and rougher than usual. The sound didn't help the growing desire.

Will stood still, taking a pause to assess his choices. He was supposed to be the lure, and now it seems the lure was deciding to catch a different fish. He knew this was dangerous, and he knew the inevitable darkness that emerged when he killed Randall Tier and Freddie Lounds would only grow after this. Wordlessly, Hannibal held out a hand; wordlessly, Will took it and followed him into the true belly of the beast.


	8. ●Forgiving Part 2 (Smut)●

Will's back was suddenly pressed into a wooden door, a pain shooting through his shoulder at the harsh movement. He wasn't given time to process or react to the pain as a pair of lips met his own. Hannibal had him pressed firmly into the door, hands working to untucked his button up. Will kissed back hungrily, hands lifting to tug at the other's gray-blonde locks.

They pulled away suddenly, both panting for air as they stared into each other's depths. In the dark room, Hannibal's brown eyes seemed black; yet somehow the orbs were ablaze with hunger. Longing. Lust. Will's blue eyes were steely, the irises shrunk and overtaken by pupils. Before Will could tug the other back into a kiss, he was pulled away from the door.

A slight stumble, and he was shoved down onto the mattress. He bounced slightly on the plush, head turning to look at the other man. The latter was now lit up with moonlight, shedding his suit jacket and vest. Will watched carefully, feeling his pants tighten with the sight before him.

Suddenly he was pinned down into the mattress, hands held above his head with a knee between his legs. Their lips met again, Will's hips bucking involuntarily in a chase for friction. He grunted into the kiss, struggling against the hold. The older man's tongue slid into his mouth, exploring the warm cavern and receiving a groan of encouragement.

Will clenched his fists, trying to pry his wrists from the latter's hold. The other man's grip was tight, expectedly with the lethal hobby he partook in. Will's conflict flashed again, the justice seeking side of him telling him to pull himself away and leave without a word. Yet the lustful, desiring side won through once again as the others knee shifted.

His wrists were finally freed and his hands immediately fell to the other's shirt. The kiss was broken, both gasping for air. Hannibal's hand moved to open the top buttons, mouth lowering to the pale skin on the others neck. Will's fingers worked clumsily on the buttons of the older man's shirt, pining for skin on skin contact. Through the multiple layers of fabric and the light teasing of Hannibal's knee, his half-hardness was now straining in his pants.

Will shoved the others shirt over his shoulder, freeing him from the fabric. He let out a kiss at the feeling of teeth in his neck. The pain blossomed from the point, an unexpected pleasure following just after it. He tangled his fingers into the others chest hair, feeling the others sharp canines dig into his skin. Hannibal's warm tongue lapped over the wound, giving a guttural growl at the taste of the others blood.

The older man lifted himself, pulling the others shirt off of him completely and tossing it away. Will wrapped his hands around the back of his lover's neck, pulling him back into a teeth and tongue kiss. Their chest pressed together, both welcoming the contact. A hand trailed down and grabbed onto his belt; Will felt himself twitch.

The belt was undone and followed the shirt. The latter's mouth traveled back to his neck, continuing to paint the pale white canvas with various shades of reds, pinks, and purples. The sound of a zipper filled the room as Hannibal pulled it down excruciatingly slow. Will nearly whimpered as the pants were pushed down and a hand found its way to his boxer covered crotch.

The man's skilled hands worked slow and teasingly, rubbing him through the fabric. Will's hips bucked again, chasing the source of pleasure with a moan. He was vulnerable, giving himself completely to the monster above him and the monster was reciprocating. Will's boxers soon followed the pants, leaving him bare under the cannibal.

Hannibal lifted himself, chest heaving as he stared down at the latter. Will's curls flooded outward around him, damp with sweat that clung to his skin. His hardness had grown to its peak, twitching in desperation against his stomach. The man on the bed was beautiful, and Hannibal could feel his heart swell with pride. With even more longing. With love.

"Sculpted like a Greek god. All too similar to Dionysus." Hannibal muttered. The others eyes rolled as he huffed in impatience. The younger man's hands traveled to the other's bottoms, tugging at them eagerly. Hannibal's chest rumbled with a chuckle; he grinned in satisfaction as the other twitched again with the sound.

"Patience is virtue, my dear William." He spoke, assisting him in shedding the pants and then undergarments.

"Fuck patience." Will shot back. His snap was cut off by a sudden hand on his length, stroking slow and teasingly. A sound erupted from his throat, a moan of pure eroticism and pleasure. The sound traveled directly to Hannibal's lowers.

Teeth returned to skin, biting into the latter's shoulder. Will's chest heaved with quick breaths, tugging at the others hair. He was silently begging for more than he was getting, wanting for the other to move faster as he desperately tried to reach the edge. A whine, something Will didn't believe he was capable of, sounded out when the hand moved away. He watched the other move off the mattress, opening the nightstand and plucking out a seemingly expensive jar of lube.

"I take it you've never had this experience before." Hannibal commented. His accent was thicker than usual, a certain rasp that contrasted the smoothness of everyday life.

"I've had sex old man. I know what to expect." Will glared at him, propped himself on his elbows as the other uncapped the jar. The others mouth pressed in a fine line at the derogatory statement about his age.

"If you're sure you want to do this, I will continue. If you're unsure, I'll stop my advances." Hannibal continued, stopping next to the side of the bed and staring at Will expectantly.

Will turned his gaze up toward the other, debating what to do. He knew the right thing would be to shuffle out of the house like a dog with its tail between his legs and never talk about this again. But with the aching hardness against his stomach begging for attention, the last crack to send him on the wrong side of morality was the idea of Hannibal inside of him.

"Get a move on. Patience is still a virtue I don't have." Will responded, watching the others mouth turn up in a smile. The latter moved back onto the bed, positioning himself between his legs. Soon lube was spread onto his fingers and one was pressed again Will's tight ring of muscle.

Will's breathing hitched as the finger slowly breached him, a slight burn following. The feeling wasn't completely unpleasant, but it was new and unexplainable. As the other's hand began to move at a slow pace, the burning slowly began to melt away and leave a subtle feeling of pleasure behind.

A second finger, and the burning returned. It was almost a cycle now, enter with a burn and end with pleasure. Hannibal worked to stretch him, watching the other squirm at the new sensations. The only sounds coming from the latter were quiet grunts. Hannibal worked to change that, angling his fingers and searching for that one bundle of nerves.

Will suddenly gasped out, a loud and strung-out moan following it. Hannibal's mouth turned up in a smile, continuously hitting that spot and adding a third finger. The man under him threw his head back into the pillow, another moan escaping his throat.

"Ah, fuck, Hannibal." Will stammered out. Another whine followed after it when the other retracted his hand. He was given a few seconds to recover, falling down from the peak he was so close to. Hannibal grabbed the lube once again and pulled out another dollop. Will coughed, trying to catch his breath as he watched the other.

His chest tightened with nerves, but his cock twitched with anticipation. He watched the other lower his hand and spread the liquid over himself. Will held his breath, staring up at the other. Their eyes locked as Hannibal stroked himself to full hardness and spread the lube around.

Will watched as the latter moved in between his legs, jaw clenching in anticipation. Hannibal leaned over him, angling himself before hovering his face over Will's. The older man leaned down to press a soft and passionate kiss to his lips. Will gave a slight smile, kissing back and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck. The man on top of him slowly began to breach him.

William groaned into the kiss, digging his short nails into the others skin. The burn had returned with a strong wave, growing as the other slid to the hilt. They sat together, pubic bone to pubic bone. He pulled from the kiss, attempting to catch his breath. Hannibal gave a quiet grunt as the other clenched around him.

Will pressed his head back into the pillow as the pain slowly subsided. Hannibal slowly retracted himself before moving back. He moved slowly, allowing the other to overcome the pain. At the latter's moan, he picked up his pace, tucking his head into the other neck.

The moans and grunts grew in intensity as the older man picked up his pace, allowing himself to slide in and out of Will with a now rapid rate. Nails dug into his shoulders, and his teeth dug into the skin on his neck. He once again lapped at the blood, savoring the taste as he pumped in and out.

Will's eyes rolled back into his head as he arched his back, chasing for more once again. Hannibal acknowledged the silent beg, picking up his intensity. Will's expression broke into pleasure as that bundle of nerves was abused again. Hannibal pressed their foreheads together, smiling softly down at the other.

Slaps of sweaty skin against skin filled the room. Both Will and Hannibal's groans of pleasure joined it. They stared into each other's eyes, both ablaze with fervor and love. The two were conjoined, blending into each other and releasing each pent up emotion they've had.

Will released with a burst of ecstacy and a loud moan, strings of pleasure falling onto their stomachs. Hannibal watched the other convulse with pleasure and with a few more thrusts, followed after him with a groan. The two remained still, pressed together as Hannibal released himself inside of the other. They stopped to catch their breaths, allowing them to come down from their highs.

Hannibal slowly pulled out, settling down onto the mattress next to the other. Will stared up at the ceiling, lifting a hand to brush his damp curls from his eyes. His head slowly turned as the other stood. Soon they were cleaned up, Hannibal tucking them under the duvet.

Will slowly shifted to lay on his side and face the other. The other's hand moved to caress his cheek, and he leaned into it.

"I know what you are... and yet I'm still laying in your arms." Will muttered, hesitantly resting his forehead against the other's shoulder.

"And what might I be, dear William?" Hannibal questioned, sliding his hands back into the other's curls. He raised an eyebrow at the sound of the latter scoffing.

"A killer. A cannibal. The damn Chesapeake Ripper." Will shook his head.

"And what do you plan to do with me, now that you know?" Hannibal continued to inquire.

"I'm supposed to catch. Supposed to turn you in and hate you for the shit you do. But I've slept with you and... made murder tableaus... and are Freddie Lounds with you..." He sighed and turned his head up slowly to the other. "I've become your apprentice in cannibalism... god what has my life become..."

"We could start a new life, Will. Anywhere in the world you could wish to go, I'll take you there." Hannibal suggested, watching the other prop himself on his elbow.

"What do you mean...? My dogs, Jack, Alana..."

"I'm sure we could take one or two of your dogs. Seven is unachievable. We can set the others in good homes. Leave a note for Jack and Alana, and never see them again." Hannibal elaborated. The other turned his head to look away, sighing.

Will laid back and stared at the wall, biting the inside of his lip. The inner conflict surged forward. The other cleared his throat, waiting for an answer. He could imagine the disappointment and betrayal on Jack's face when he read the letter, and the anger and pain on Alana's when she found out what they did. He would most likely leave the dogs he did not take with Alana, as they already loved her and she cared for them well. He slowly turned his head back to the other.

"I'll go." Will responded, a genuine smile spreading onto the latter's face. He leaned over the other, pressing their lips together in a slow and sealing kiss. The two pulled away after a long minute, settling down to sleep. The two curled into the other's embrace naturally. As Will drifted off, he realized for the first time in months he was content within Hannibal's arms, and knew he would be happy wherever in the world the other took him.


	9. ●Suspecting (Fluff-ish)●

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:
> 
> Body Mutilation
> 
> Severed Human Limbs
> 
> Death/Murder

Alana Bloom knew that Hannibal Lecter was married. She had been his student and heard about his rather mysterious spouse on more than one occasion. He didn't discuss them, stating calmly that his private life should be kept private and she respected that. Even with each dinner party of his she attended, his other half never made an appearance.

Alana Bloom knew that Will Graham was married. He seemed far from ashamed about that fact, but never outwardly spoke about it. With the brief feelings she had for him before she found her own beloved Margot, not once had he named his spouse. When she politely explained why she truly avoided being in a room with him, Will politely turned her down and she moved on.

Beverly, Brian, and Jimmy knew Will Graham was married. They worked with the man regularly and couldn't help but notice the metal on his finger. They had attempted to, both in a friendly and pressuring manner, get the name out of him. He always dismissed them with silence.

Beverly, Brian, and Jimmy knew Hannibal Lecter was married. They'd worked with the man on a few occasions and seen him more. The man wasn't open about the ring on his finger and the commitment he'd made to a mystery person, but he wasn't closed off either. Beverly attempted to question him, politely of course, but was given an excuse about personal relationships remaining personal.

Jack Crawford knew Will Graham was married. He hadn't paid much mind to him when they argued over The Evil Minds Research Museum, but when he walked into his classroom that day he had noticed the particularly stunning ring of what he guessed was Cobalt with Silver linings. He never questioned him about it, knowing any digs into his personal life would be met with a sarcastic remark from the teacher.

Jack Crawford knew Hannibal Lecter was married. He had felt the ring against his fingers when they first shook hands and eyed it when the man showed him his scalpel and pencil. It was similar to Will's, Cobalt with Gold linings instead of Silver. He never put two and two together and never heard a name connected to the doctor's spouse when they had dinner together.

Abigail Hobbs knew that Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham were married. From the moment she met them, or rather the visit to her hospital room after her father's attack, she could see a connection between the two. The scruffy and anxious man that avoided her gaze and fought fiercely against Freddie Lounds; how he seemed to relax when she left the room and had Hannibal close to his side. The cordial and refined man that immediately jumped to defend Will and usher the tabloid journalist out of the room; how his gaze seemed to soften every time he looked at the special agent.

The deal breaker had been when the two officially received guardianship. They had asked her explicitly if she would be okay with them being her surrogate parents, to which she responded yes. She noticed on the paperwork when they filled out the last of it that they were not Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. They were Hannibal and Will Lecter-Graham.

Jack and Alana had been suspicious as to why both of them had received custody; mostly because of the life that was taken and who had taken it but also as to why they allowed two men they thought had no connection to take in a child. They never stated anything out loud, Abigail seemed content with the men and there were no concerns after they had settled into what routine they could.

Will and Hannibal never attempted to hide their marriage. They agreed to never explicitly state it for two mutual reasons. Will hated explaining his relationship and love life, considering it was absolutely no one's business and with the attention he got from reporters it would spread like wildfire. Hannibal felt his partnership wasn't relevant to anyone other than him, Will, and now Abigail.

Really, the two wanted to see how far it would go. See how long it would take Jack to take note of how close they stood at crime scenes, and how they not-so-casually flirted over murder tableaus they had created together. See how long Alana would put up with awkward dinners with only the three of them, that was until Margot entered the picture and became four. See how long it would take the forensic team to snoop around and scrounge up whatever they could. So far, it had taken all of them almost a year.

When their anniversary rolled around, there were two murders. One, an origami heart made out of a human, a man that had blatantly flirted with Hannibal and ended up with his life mercilessly being taken from him by the man he pined for. The second, a bouquet of flowers and human limbs. Asters, Red Camellias, Forget-Me-Nots, and Heliotropes, all picked for the meanings tied to them. With the flowers were human limbs of 3 different people, 6 arms and 6 legs that flourished with ostentation.

Jack was bewildered and furious. He had no clue who these killers were, and was led on a goose chase by Will and Hannibal. Freddie Lounds referred to them as The Lovers, sending malicious love letters to each other through murder. Will empathized and did his duty, Hannibal filled in where he could, and they both chuckled to themselves walking off the scenes.

These were the scenes they stood even closer than before, determined to give more obvious hints in hopes the prolonged obliviousness to their commitment would come to an end. Hannibal had moved to wrap his scarf around Will. They were outside in the cold of early December, stationed in the woods at Hannibal's scene. Will gave him a gruff complaint, stating firmly he wouldn't get sick before giving in.

This only set Jack off more. When they went to Will's scene, it only got worse. Hannibal explained the meanings of the flowers, love for Aster, a sentiment for the specifically Red Camellias, memories of true love for Forget-Me-Nots, and eternal love for Heliotropes, eyes shining with a certain pride as he spoke. Will was the one to make a connection between the origami heart and the grotesque bouquet.

At this scene, Hannibal's hand found its way to Will's lower back. This pressed them closer than before; keeping them together in a slight comfort as Will pretended, and rather convincingly, that the scene bothered him and confused him. Jack was beyond agitated at this point, between the murders and his profilers acting stranger than usual, his patience was growing thin.

They spent lunch with Alana and Margot, the Verger-Blooms' debating the adoption of a child and asking the Lecter-Grahams' for advice. They sat with their hands wrapped together under the table, conversing simply over Hannibal's prepared food. They gave their advice, mentioning their parenting with Abigail. When they were cleaning up, Alana had seen them briefly pressed together. Hannibal's nose had pressed into the curls on Will's temple, receiving a seemingly playful glare from the latter before they broke apart.

When they attended the autopsy and received evidence from the forensic team, they made their obvious hints through the conversation. Will leaned a shoulder into the wall, staring off as Brian, Jimmy, and Beverly explained who the victims were. Hannibal had shifted around him, pushing the darker-haired man's glasses further up his nose before they fell off and tucking a curl behind his ear. Will had broken from his trance at this, seemingly indifferent to the touch. This was the moment the three realized, staring at the two in almost smug understanding. Brian passed Jimmy a dollar bill, resulting in a comment about rudeness from Hannibal when they left.

Alana had realized not too long after, when the two couples had prepared a multi-course meal together. Margot and Hannibal had attended to cooking, spicing, basting, and all around preparing the meat. Alana and Will worked carefully on chopping vegetables. It was when Hannibal had pressed himself against Will's backside, assisting him in cutting the lines straight that she realized. Will hadn't moved away from the touch and not even a blush crept onto his cheeks, he merely gave Hannibal a snappy remark about how his lines had already been straight. Margot had given her wife a smile when she abruptly stopped cutting vegetables, mouth hanging open in surprise before it shut and she smiled away the astonishment.

Jack had been the last to realize. He often wasn't as observant as he should be, too focused on the murder. It was when he walked into Will's classroom, or rather stopped silently in the doorway without being noticed. Hannibal and Will had been talking, discussing when and who would pick up Abigail and what time Will needed to be home for dinner. They shared a brief kiss, a hand cupping Hannibal's cheek before separating and noticing Jack. They didn't mention the moment, Will jumping to question what his boss wanted and Hannibal politely excusing himself. Jack mentally scolded himself for not realizing sooner and didn't question or bring attention to it.

Even though news of their uncovered relationship spread around quickly due to Freddie Lounds finding out and milking it for attention, they didn't bring any focus to it. They acted as they typically would and nothing about everyday life had changed. The Lovers popped up again, every holiday, birthday, and anniversary being overtaken by tableaus. They exchanged their morbid gifts, allowed themselves slightly more freedom in public affection, and continued their seemingly domestic life with their surrogate daughter.


	10. ●Pining (RRAU)●

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Like once a month I'm gonna do a Role Reversal AU oneshot and go along and rewrite the scenes I wanna rewrite because I've lowkey fallen in love with the idea. If you don't really like it, sorry. I thoroughly enjoy the idea of switching things up and it helps refresh my mind. If you like it, enjoy Will being a desperate bitch

Will wasn't exactly the best cook. He did his absolute best and listed it as a hobby to avoid suspicion when he made his own meals. Hannibal as he'd heard was an exceptional chef, and he silently wondered why the man went into lectures over the culinary arts. Among the thoughts was the desire to impress, a slightly above average protein scramble and coffee being all he had to present.

He pushed himself from his car, grabbing the bag of containers and looking up at the motel. The room he had been told was Hannibal's was completely blocked off, the curtains tucked tightly to shield the sunlight. Will closed the car door, fixing the suit jacket over his sweater and making his way to the door.

Wrapping his knuckles on the door, he waited. Seconds later, with the sounds of shuffling and footsteps, the door opened and sunlight flooded into the motel room. The man's expression immediately constricted in confusion at the sight of his visitor.

"Morning, Hannibal. May I come in?" Will greeted, giving a slight smile. The other's gaze turned to look behind him, searching.

"Where's Crawford?" Hannibal questioned, resting a hand on the doorframe. The man was dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and boxer. Now, Will had nothing left to the imagination. After their first conversation he had thought incessantly about the teacher. He was almost annoyed that the new man had taken up so much of his mind.

"Deposed in court." Will explained plainly, not opening up to a lengthy explanation. He hated the fact Jack had imposed, even as a thought of his being. "The adventure will be yours and mine today." He added, relishing in the fact that Jack would be away and wouldn't be in any place to interfere. Hannibal gave him a hesitant and begrudgingly glance before stepping aside to let him in.

Will stepped into the motel room, closing it behind him as Hannibal forced open the curtains. He set the bag of food down on the table, opening it and pulling out containers, plates, utensils, and a thermos. The man worked to help him unpack, both settling down at the table and opening the containers.

"I'm... particular about what I eat, so I prepare everything myself." Will gave a slow nod, watching the other tilt the container to examine it. He took great joy, or rather a dulled burst of joy, in so subtly disclosing his appetite. Hannibal grabbed one of the forks, sticking it through some of the egg and taking a bite.

"It's delicious. Thank you doctor." Hannibal nodded, chewing slowly and scraping the food onto a plate.

"My pleasure. Though I'm sure you could improve upon any of my recipes. I hear your food is excellent." Will returned, taking a bite of his own and smiling at the other. He seemed to shrug off the compliment, but as per the polite demeanor gave a quiet thanks.

"I would apologize for digging into your mind, but I have no doubt more apologies will come and we'll grow tired of the cycle." The doctor continued after he swallowed. He kept his gaze intent on the other, both admiring and analyzing. Without his glasses Hannibal's eyes were unobstructed. In the sunlight, they seemed an almost golden brown.

"I'd prefer it if it was kept professional." Hannibal commented, taking another bite of egg and reaching for the thermos. He poured himself coffee, watching steam rise from the dark brown liquid.

"Or we could socialize like adults. God forbid we become friendly." Will objected, a smile on his lips. Subtle hints, placing ideas into the others mind in the beginning stages of manipulation.

Hannibal gave a shake of his head, lifting the cup to his mouth and blowing off a trail of steam. "I don't find you that interesting, doctor." He answered, taking a quick sip of the coffee before setting the cup down.

"You will." He returned, watching the other hesitantly meet his eyes in slight confusion. The eye contact was short lived as Hannibal turned back to the meal. He slid his fork through a piece of meat, eyeing it before popping it into his mouth.

"Agent Crawford tells me you have a knack for the monster." Will picked up the conversation again, raising an eyebrow at the other's audible scoff. The teacher lightly nudged the plate away, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his eyes.

"The Shrike didn't kill that girl in the field." Hannibal shot back, turning his attention to the doctor in front of him. Will enjoyed it, knowing Jack most likely didn't want to entertain his objections. In contrast, he listened eagerly, enjoying each glimpse into the man's beautiful mind.

"The devil is in the detail. What didn't the copycat do to the girl in the field, what gave it away?" Will inquired. He was more than interested, wanting to know just how Hannibal figured out that he was a copycat. Believing he had made a rather faithful recreation, he was enthralled that the other determined the truth in such little time.

"Everything. It's like he... had to show me a negative so that I could see the positive. The scene was... practically gift-wrapped." Hannibal explained, his voice surprisingly placid. Will wallowed in each word that came from the man's accent, enjoying the way the words fell off his tongue.

"The mess of human behavior and all the ugly pieces that make it. A big mess with this, Shrike fellow, huh? Are you... reconstructing his fantasies?" He questioned, placing a bite of sausage on his tongue. He silently wondered how the man in front of him tasted, and what fish would go well with his organs. Shoving off the thought, he promised himself he would only kill Hannibal as a last resort. "What kind of problems does he have?" He continued to question.

"He uh... has a few." Hannibal shook his head, tossing back another drink of coffee now that it had cooled to an ingestible level.

"Have any problems, Hannibal?" Will raised an eyebrow, reveling in the others nervous chuckle.

"I can't say that I do, doctor." He shook his head, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip to rid himself of coffee residue.

"Of course you don't. You and I are rather similar, problem-free. Nothing about us to feel horrible about." Will nodded, mouth turning up in a smile. Another hint to his actions and another burst of amusement. "I think... Uncle Jack sees you as a fragile teacup. The finest China, used for only special guests."

That made Hannibal laugh. A deep rumble of a sound, low and guttural and utterly genuine. It was almost music to Will's ears. The other leaned back, shoulders shaking with his laughter. Will etched the sight and sound into his memory, never wanting to lose the unhindered and free laughter.

"How do you see me?" Hannibal questioned over his chuckles, smiling toward the other and running a hand over his mouth.

"A powerful creature that's waiting for the right time to pounce. A... mongoose waiting for a snake to come." Will nodded. The laughter seemed to die, the opposing man's eyebrows seeming to furrow at the words. It was surprisingly metaphorical and practically killed the humor.

"Finish your breakfast." Will spoke again, gesturing to the others plate with his fork and taking another bite from his own.

~~~

Within about 15 seconds, the scene went from typical to chaotic. Pulling up to the Hobbs household had seemed like it would be a traditional interview. Hannibal had pushed himself from the car, and Will watched through the windows eagerly.

He had called, warned, inserted himself as an unknown pawn in the game. Calling Garret Jacob Hobbs was merely the beginning of a longer string of events. As Hannibal stepped up to the door, the door flung open and a man emerged.

A woman, his wife, was thrust through the door with her neck cut. Hannibal ran forward, kneeling next to her in futile attempts to save her. Will departed the car, making his way over to the two. Blood welled rapidly from the wound, spilling over the concrete in thick waves and only slowed when her frantic movements did as well. Will was a former surgeon, he knew the look of a person on the brink of death and he knew when it was idiotic to even attempt to save them.

Hannibal had kicked open the door, brandishing a gun and disappearing into the house. Will crouched, avoiding dirtying his pants. The cut was far from clean, jagged and frantic. He had played through many scenarios and was beginning to like the one he landed on. His warning had caused a frenzy. He knew from experience that a psychopath would not give themself up, rather fight tooth and claw until their last breath for what they wanted.

Gunshots. He closed his eyes, listening to each one and counting. It started with a solo shot, a pause, before rocketing nine more. They ceased and the sound of panicking from inside followed. Will finally pushed himself away from the woman, making his way slowly inside.

Hannibal was leaning over a girl, Hobbs' golden ticket, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Will hung back, enjoying the sights before him. Hannibal was splattered with blood, both Garrett's and the girl's. He made his way over slowly, kneeling down next to him. Instead of turning to the struggling girl, he turned to Hannibal.

The other looked up at him in confusion, adrenaline and panic still clear in his eyes. Will lifted a hand, tucking his thumb and forefinger under Hannibal's chin and tilting up.

"It suits you."

He smiled, enjoying the sight. The blood splayed over his sharp features, dirtying his glasses and graying blonde hair. Will didn't believe his physical interest in the man could grow, but the sight in front of him did. Before the other could muster a response, he turned to the girl.

Carefully, he lifted her head and wrapped a hand around her throat. His fingers pressed tight, beginning to properly staunch the blood. Hannibal stared at him through the sheen of red in pure bewilderment.

Will found himself at the girl's bedside, whom he discovered was named Abigail. She resembled him in an eerily similar way, the dark color of her hair and the brief blue orbs he had seen in her desperation to remain conscious. Hannibal had taken to her easily, fostering feelings of guilt and parenthood.

Will never had the desire to parent, in fact he often avoided children. Dogs were much easier to take care of and provided an undying loyalty that children would never give. With Abigail, he could see something dark beneath the surface, similar to what he saw with Hannibal. She had taken a life before, that was plain and simple, and that gave her an undeniable amount of potential.

His hand rested over hers, gently caressing as he watched over her. He settled on a plan, knowing pretending to foster the same feeling as Hannibal would help them grow closer. Will would make his attempts to care for the girl and bond, pushing that strain of potential. In turn, he and Hannibal would drift closer through the unconscious girl and he'd get exactly what he wanted. Staying in her hospital room and having Hannibal find them would be the next step, which just so happened to be the turn of events within the hour.

Will allowed himself to relax in the uncomfortable hospital chair, pretending to be asleep. A book rested in his lap and a hand kept clasped onto Abigail's. Hannibal had come in, quieting at the sight of his 'sleeping'. He opened his eyes imperceptibly, watching the teacher tug over a chair and settled down on the opposite side of the bed. Will couldn't help the small smile on his lips, pieces of his puzzle falling into place.


	11. ●Accepting (Fluff)●

Will thought he hated Hannibal. From the moment he found out what he was and that he was the reason Abigail was gone, he was angry; or more accurately, infuriated. He acted on impulse on a number of occasions but promised himself he would get his reckoning in a way other than killing him. To get what he wanted, he had to bait him and make him fall. Then Hannibal would be ensnared and he'd be stuck in the same place Will was.

Baiting meant spending time with him and that's exactly what he did. Will cooked with him from time to time, both dining on long pig and talking. Often they'd clean up and move off to engage in another activity. Games of chess. Hannibal drawing and sketching Will. Will discussing his interests in dogs and fishing while Hannibal listened attentively and admiringly. Many times they ended in front of the fire with glasses of wine, either in an amiable silence or engaging in talk of cases, work, mental states, and insinuations to murder and cannibalism.

Oftentimes, Will would stay the night. Simply take up the guest room and enjoy a night's sleep in a bed more comfortable than his at home. At first, Will completely detested the idea of sleeping in a lion's den. After a while, he began to stop watching his wine intake and would be a bit too intoxicated to drive the hours long drive back to his house in Wolf Trap. Hannibal made his offer and Will rather begrudgingly took it. Now it had become a habit and a part of their schedule.

Will and Hannibal were sitting in the parlor, stationed in front of the fireplace. Two chairs, tilted slightly toward each other. A crackling orange and yellow fire within the stone fireplace. Two glasses of brandy, rather than the typical wine, on side tables. The two men sat listening to the fire with books in their hands.

Eyes skimmed pages and glances were thrown. Despite Will's promise to himself, a promise to despise all the time he spent with Hannibal, he found he was enjoying himself. His belly was full with the meal he and Hannibal made together. There was a buzz in his head from the brandy, and the fire kept him warm in the mid fall. Reading in such a peaceful setting despite having the Chesapeake Ripper next to him allowed him to unwind some of the stress of his everyday life.

He found his mind wandering, gaze turning up from the page to Hannibal. The man seemed invested in the words on his pages, a certain ease to his eyes. His sharp features had relaxed as he delved within the poetry. His suit jacket had been laid over the back of his chair, shedding a slight bit of his formality and allowing him to relax just like Will.

Another promise Will had made to himself was broken. In this moment, he caught himself admiring the latter. His face fell in slow realization; he was attracted to Hannibal Lecter. He had thought he was the one building a trap that the other would get caught in. In reality, he was falling and Hannibal had set him in this position.

"Is everything alright, Will?" Hannibal broke the quietude, looking up from his pages.

Will immediately tore his gaze away, pulling a hand from his book to grab his glass. A swift movement and he tossed back a drink of the brandy, the subtly sweet flavor filling his mouth. Hannibal's gaze remained on him expectantly, tilting the book halfway closed.

"Everything's fine." Will muttered back, setting the cup down. A quiet sound of glass against wood followed. He kept his eyes intent on the pages of his book.

"Will you be staying the night again?" Hannibal continued to inquire. There was a slight smile on his face, one that both unnerved Will and made a warmth spread throughout his chest.

"I figured that was part of our routine now, Doctor." Will clicked the book shut and set it down on the side table next to the glass. From the corner of his eye, he watched the other adjust his posture and close his book as well. He seemed content with the answer.

"If there's something on your mind, I'm always a set of open ears. Nothing you could say or do would deter our friendship." Hannibal reassured, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. Will would typically snarl an opposition at the mention of their so-called friendship, but this time one didn't come. That only caused the tilt in the former's lips to turn up further.

"Merely thinking about... this. What exactly we are to each other." Will spoke before realizing he spoke. He was opening up without meaning to. In a slow movement his head turned up to look at the man next to him.

"And what exactly are we to each other?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow, searching the other for an answer. "Has the light of friendship moved closer than a million years?"

Will didn't have a response. The idea, even the insinuation that they were friends should have angered or annoyed him. He debated, wondering if he'd willingly call Hannibal a friend; then wondering if they were even more. He scoffed at himself for the thought and wallowed in pure denial.

"Perhaps the light has moved a thousand years away." Will returned. Hannibal's dark eyes seemed to brighten at the sentence. If Will didn't have a conflict constantly storming in his head he would have been certain that he and Jack had the man trapped. He was starting to find that he couldn't imagine giving Hannibal to the police, letting the bond between them sever under bars or plexiglass, and not being able to live with these domestic moments.

~~~

Will did his best to keep still. Settled in front of the fireplace once again, Hannibal was sketching him. This was the third time he agreed to this. For some reason he enjoyed it, watching Hannibal's gaze tear over each line and curve of his lineaments with unadulterated admiration.

The light scratching of charcoal on paper and the crackling of a low fire filled the room. Will imagined sitting completely still and having Hannibal scrutinize him would be boring and uncomfortable, but he was surprisingly at ease. He was beginning to gradually grow used to the other's presence again and thought less about what he was and more about what they were to each other.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Hannibal's face intense with focus. It was a wonderful sight, something Will would immediately deny if anyone had asked him. The man's sleeves were rolled up this time as he drew. His scars, long and jagged and still very prominent, were on full display. Will hadn't expected when he thought about his attempt with a proxy he would ever feel guilt. In that moment, at the complete vulnerability Hannibal was giving him, he did. Rage had stopped blinding him and the wool had been pulled from his eyes.

"I'm surprised you're still willingly letting me into your home." Will spoke up, allowing his mouth to move. He'd spoken while the other drew him before and it never interfered.

"And why does that surprise you? I greatly enjoy having you within my presence." Hannibal turned his gaze up from his page, halting his pencil.

"I did attempt to have your life taken with a proxy." He shot back, still eyeing up the relatively fresh marks. The other looked down, noticing what he was staring at and nodding slowly.

"We have both harmed each other in scarring ways. Betrayal and forgiveness are a part of any relationship, something that will eventually hang over heads and something those heads will have to work through." Hannibal allowed the notebook to fall shut, setting it aside with the pencil. "Do you feel we've worked past betrayal and forgiveness, Will?"

"I feel teacups don't come together. At least not in the exact way they were. There are cracks, nics that are forever a part of the glass, but are usable nonetheless." Will slowly relaxed, allowing him to stretch his somewhat stiff muscles.

"Are you once again being used as fine china despite your cracks?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow, plucking his glass from the side table. He swirled around the red liquid, taking an inhale before a drink.

"If you're asking if Jack has muzzled the bloodhound again, no. I went back to him yes, but not with my tail between my legs; with my head higher than it was before." Will turned his head to completely face the older man. Hannibal's tongue swept over his bottom lip to lick away the wine, and Will could feel something recoil in his chest.

"That's good to hear. Uncle Jack may think he has the hound on a leash, but the hound is not loyal to him is it?" The older man leaned toward the latter, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I'm not dependent on anyone, not anymore. The hound will follow its own path without an owner to tug it down a different one." Will nodded, wrapping his fingers around the cool glass of his cup.

"The hound becomes a mongoose, searching for snakes and attacking only the reptiles he chooses." Hannibal's smile grew as he broke the distance between them.

His arm gestured forward, outstretched for a toast. Will hesitated, the truly genuine smile sending a warmth through him. It was similar to what he had felt when Alana would smile at him, but not to this intensity. Slowly he shifted his hand out, tapping his glass against Hannibal's with a gentle clink. The two pulled their arms away again, taking a drink.

~~~

A quietude, seemingly domestic and entirely enjoyable. Will's denial was softening with each night he spent with Hannibal. The two clicked together like pieces of a puzzle; working in tandem within the kitchen, indulging in metaphorical conversations at the dining table, sitting calmly in the parlor sipping on wine, and merely enjoying the other's presence.

Will was truly at peace here. Jack had been nagging, pushing him harder and harder to get Hannibal to confess and he admittedly snapped. He practically screamed at his boss and left to drown himself in whiskey. Now he could shed every bit of that stress, everything that pricked his annoyance and every insensitive word from Jack.

He no longer despised the fact he was enjoying himself. Rather, he relished in the fact he had a place to unwind. Though something was drifting in the back of his mind tonight, Alana. He was trying to convince himself the reason he was angry at her was because she refused to see the darkness within Hannibal. In reality, it was because she had been bedded by the killer.

Will blinked away the thoughts and tossed back another sip of wine. His gaze wandered toward Hannibal, noticing their chairs had been stationed even closer together. He both laughed at the fact Hannibal had tried to subtly get them closer, and inwardly beamed at the realization they were closer. A silent thought, a wonder if Alana had ever spent time with Hannibal like this. Not sexually intimate, but domestically.

Will stared, taking in each part of him with the same admiration Hannibal had when the situation was flipped. He noticed each line, each curve, each crease, and loved every bit. He stopped at that, pushing how strong the meaning of 'loved' was in his mind. He wasn't sure if he was in love with Hannibal and tried to shove off any trace of that, denial springing back up.

"What exactly is Alana Bloom to you?" He spoke, breaking the pure silence. Hannibal's head turned toward him with a curious expression.

"She used to be a student of mine. Now she's a wonderful woman I consider lucky to know." Hannibal responded simply. Will could feel anger spring up once again, and an emotion he refused to acknowledge the name of.

"I didn't think you'd be one to have affairs, Doctor. Very out of character." He muttered, harsher than he anticipated. He blamed it on the unnamed emotion.

"Alana is a very special woman, but I have realized the error I made. Engaging with her in such a way was unprofessional." Hannibal returned calmly, seeming unfazed by the tone.

"So you've broken it off? Why?" Will tucked his head, curiosity and slight confusion filling his mind.

"Her and I were not meant to be. As you said, it is unlike me to engage in such an affair and I am withdrawing before things get out of hand." He nodded, keeping his attention on Will. "Even though she means a great deal, I have someone I feel would be better for me than her."

Will scoffed. He didn't mean to, he didn't want to, but the sound forced its way out of his throat before he could process. Hearing him regard her so highly hurt, even though he was speaking about rejecting her. The older man's eyes shimmered with amusement.

"Tell me Will, are you jealous of me being with Alana or Alana being with me?" Hannibal inquired with an almost smug smirk. Will choked on his drink.

"I am not jealous of anyone." He scowled subtly, turning his head away. Coughing, he dislodged the alcohol from his throat. Embarrassment crept up, providing a pink tint to his ivory skin. Silently he cursed at himself for reacting how he was.

"Of course. I apologize for my assumption." Hannibal nodded, though rather than sincerity in his tone, it was amusement.

Walking upstairs to the guest room, Will noticed how close they were as they stepped down the hall. And how close they stood when they stopped at the bedroom. And the not-so-subtle glance Hannibal took to his lips. And the knot slowly forming in his stomach. And the sudden urge to lean into the other's touch, the sudden urge to be in his arms, the sudden urge to kiss him.

Will's jaw clenched. He was practically pressed against the door and Hannibal was looking down at him expectantly. There was no escape, the door opened outwardly and he couldn't fall back into the room. His hands slowly trailed away from the doorknob, eyes never leaving the older man's.

His urges were taking over; he had no control over what his limbs decided to do. His limbs apparently decided to tug Hannibal into a hug, much to both of their surprises. Will's head tucked, forehead pressing to the other's shoulder in order to hide the increasing blush spreading over his complexion. Hannibal seemed in slight shock at the sudden turn of events.

Will was about to tug away, an apology on the cusp of his tongue about to fall into a useless mutter. That was until he felt Hannibal reciprocate. Arms wrapped around his torso and held him close. A face pressed into his curls. A hand slowly rubbing over the muscles of his back. Suddenly Will was purely at peace.

Standing in the dark hallway of Hannibal's insanely fancy house, wrapped in a hug with the Chesapeake Ripper himself, he was at peace. The tension, the embarrassment, the previous anger and jealousy all seemed to evaporate and left him hazy with happiness. His shoulders fell with a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in and his tongue ached slightly from biting it.

"This sounds absolutely stupid... but..." He whispered softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he prepared for his proposition.

"If you're comfortable, we can settle in my room rather than the guest room. The bed is much bigger if you need space." Hannibal completed, seeming to read his mind.

Will's mouth fell open, freezing in his place. There was no temptation to say no, to push them apart, to scramble into the guest room and slam the door never to speak of this moment again. Instead he snapped his mouth shut and tucked his head in a curt nod of approval. The last thing he wanted, especially now, was to lose the comforting grip of the other.

Stepping further down the hall, waiting for Hannibal to dress in the bathroom and return, pulling himself down to his boxer and undershirt. It was a blur of actions Will barely registered happening. Soon he was sliding into silk sheets and settling under a thick comforter. Arms returned to their places around the other, hands clutched sweaters, and fingers tangled in curls. As Will drifted off he realized just how happy he was, just how content and safe he felt in the arms of a monster.

A monster that only seemed to only be gentle with him. One that accepted him. One that Will was beginning to accept himself.


	12. ●Hunting (Fluff/Implied Smut)●

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: 
> 
> Kidnapping
> 
> Death/Murder
> 
> Stabbing/Knives
> 
> Taking organs/cannibalism
> 
> Taking off fingers and hands
> 
> Sidenote: I had writer's block this week so if it's slightly half-assed and unedited blame that

"Of course you pick the windiest day so far this week to go out." Will grumbled from under his breath, shooting his lover an annoyed glare. 

Hannibal gave a quiet chuckle, rumbling in his chest as the other's anger increased with the sound. Will's coat was tucked tightly around him, collar turned up and framing a thick scarf. One hand was stuffed into a pocket whilst the other reluctantly clutched Hannibal's. 

"If you wish to enjoy the dinner I have planned tonight, we have to get the last few ingredients." The older man returned softly, feeling Will give his hand an angry squeeze. 

"Why bring me along?" 

"I enjoy your company. And I promised we'd spend today together." Hannibal answered sweetly, running his hand over the other's knuckles. The material of his leather gloves brushed against Will's woolen ones. 

"When I imagined spending a day together, I imagined not leaving bed and having fun there." His husband retorted, his voice somewhat muffled from behind the scarf. 

"We will have our fun. Dinner shall come first, and for dinner I need grapes, along with some other fruits for later use." Hannibal gave a nod, lightly ushering Will to the side to avoid another walking couple. 

The sidewalks of Dinan, France weren't exactly busy. It was a rural town with cobblestone streets and a rustic feel. Hannibal couldn't help to admire the area as it were. 

Will was framed by trees dotted with deepened scarlets, blazing oranges, and striking yellows. It was a truly beautiful sight and would reserve a space within the rooms of his head. The man's woodsy smell blended with the sharp breeze of autumn, along with the nauseating smell of cheap aftershave. 

He would feel Will stiffen as another gust of wind blew past them, his curls whipping around his face. They were long, reaching past his ears and down the base of his neck. Unlike his time in prison, they were well kept, looking and feeling soft to the touch. 

"I hate you. It's way too windy for this, I'm gonna get blown away." Will persisted, a subtle pout to his wind chapped lips. He looked like a begging child who had just been told 'no'. 

"I love you too. You won't be blowing away anytime soon, my hand is in yours keeping you grounded." Hannibal reassured, his amusement sparking up again. He adored this side of Will. Rather, he adored every side of Will. 

Will gave a mumbling of a curse, receiving a pointed and disapproving stare as they tucked into the stalls of the open market. Other customers were already browsing the produce, few and far between. It wasn't crowded and it seemed to be freshly stocked. 

Hannibal picked up a basket from the stack, stepping down the rows of product for his desired fruit. Will followed next to him, the anger within him dying down now that they had arrived. The two stepped around, finding the needed grapes and picking out a few others to refill their fruit bowl at home. 

Will nudged through apples, plucking up a few to inspect them before setting them in his lover's basket. His fingers wrapped around a lush red one, thumb running over the waxy skin to feel for any soft parts. That's when a whine sounded through the market, a desperate and painful sound that caused even Hannibal's heart to twinge. 

Will froze in his place, face falling into a blank line. His fingers clutched at the apple, threatening to crush it in his grip. Shouting followed, a thick and angry curse that reprimanded the dog.

Hannibal hadn't seen the man's bloodlust come so quickly before. Even with the dragon, it had been a slow build to the defining moment. Now, it flooded clear into his stormy blue eyes, accompanying pure rage. He watched as Will turned, raising his arm with the apple still clasped in his hand. 

Just before his husband could throw the apple at the owner, he grabbed his wrist and carefully forced it back down. Will's fury was now directed at him, a shout placing itself just on his tongue. Hannibal eased the apple from his hand and placed it in his basket. 

"Go tend to the canine. I will talk with the owner." Hannibal spoke quietly. The words immediately registered within the latter's mind and his gaze softened. 

He watched Will jog off toward the cowering animal. Lifting a hand, he calmly beckoned the owner over. The man's demeanor seemed to immediately shift, the aggression toward the animal melting away and being replaced by an attentive smile. 

"I'm afraid I can't find the yellow peppers. Do you carry them?" Hannibal questioned in careful French. From the corner of his eye, he could see Will knelt down with a hand carefully out to the dog. 

The owner gave his mumbles of confirmation and led him over toward the now dwindling stock. Hannibal followed after, humming out his words of appreciation. 

"Bit of a maze here, hard to find certain things." The owner brushed it off, giving Hannibal a broadened smile. He had an ego, one that he knew Will would crush the moment he was set loose on the man. 

"Must have slipped past my gaze." Hannibal gave a nod. 

"I haven't seen you around before, and I know most of the locals. You new?" The man questioned, continuing the conversation even as Hannibal turned to examine the peppers. 

"My husband and I moved into the outskirts of town 6 months ago." He explained, picking up the yellow piece and placing it with the others. Turning, he offered out his hand in a polite introduction. "Harrison Lancaster." 

"Ansel Windsor. Nice to finally meet you." The owner introduced, shaking his hand. Hannibal gave a smile, knowing the more information he squeezed from the man the easier it would be to track him down. 

"I must compliment the state of the produce. I'm sure it's hard to find ripened fruits and vegetables this time of year." Hannibal complimented, forcing down the annoyance that pricked within his head. Ansel seemed to beam at the words. 

"I work hard on my produce. Want to make sure it's presentable to customers. Apologize for the shouting earlier, mangy mutt was trying to get a hold of some food." The owner nodded, the words clearly going to his head. Hannibal himself hated forms of animal cruelty and abuse, and was throughly tempted to hurt the man as well. 

"Commendable. I think that's all I'll be needing, allow me to pay." He forced a smile, snatching up one of the business cards stationed in front of the cash register. Paying quickly, he allowed Ansel to bag his groceries before making his way over to his husband. 

Will was knelt by the dog, running a hand over her dirty fur. His gloves had been discarded into his pocket and he was searching her for injuries. The dog was medium sized, short black, white, and reddish fur spotted with dirt and grim. Bones shown through her skin and she seemed dehydrated. 

"We're taking her home. She needs food, water, a bath, a place to rest." Will spoke up, holding his arms out to the stray. She was hesitant, crawling up into his lap and giving a whine of confusion when she was picked up. He soothed her with a gentle rub to her head. 

~~~

Hannibal stopped in the doorway, adjusting the towels tucked around his forearm. Will gestured next to the tub with his foot, his hands busy in the dog crouched in the tub. His hands moved over her soapy fur, scrubbing away the filth. Setting down the towels next to the tub, Hannibal stopped to admire the new pet. 

"She seems like an appenzeller. Maybe a little beagle." Will spoke up. His curls were pulled back into a bun; the sight affected Hannibal more than he'd like to admit. 

"Interesting. Have you decided on a name?" He returned to his place at the doorway, avoiding a spray of water and soap as the dog shook. The chuckle from his husband caused a smile of his own to stretch onto his features. 

"We should call her Encephalitis." Will suggested, mouth turning up in a playfully grin as he turned on the showerhead. "Cephi for short" 

"Is Encephalitis really necessary?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow, his slight annoyance being overtaken by humor. 

"Yes, yes it is! It's confirmed. I'm not fighting you on this. It's better than some exotic French name you'd come up with." Will shot back with a laugh, running the handheld showerhead over the dog's back to clean away the soap. The animal gave a loud bark that echoed off the tiles of the bathroom. "See!? Even she likes it." 

"Cephi it is then." Hannibal shook his head, fighting the smile that pulled onto his face.

~~~

Ansel's eyes slowly fluttered open. Pain flared in his head and he suspected blood was swelling from the cut on his temple. He felt sluggish, disoriented, and panicked. Giving an attempt to stand, he realized he was bound to one of his kitchen chairs. The room was dark, only a few shreds of moonlight fluttering in the room with the curtains. 

More panic coursed through his system as a silhouette came into view. Average height, downed in all black with a blade shining in his hand. When the man stepped into the moonlight Ansel could make out unruly curls and scruffy facial hair, cold blue eyes drilling into him with a terrifying malice. He opened his mouth to scream.Before he could utter a sound the man was behind him, pressing the tip of the blade to his throat. 

"Make a sound and I'll cut out your vocal chords." The man whispered into his ear with sloppy French. A quiet whimper came out instead of a scream and the blade lightly broke his skin. 

"I'm going to put you through hell. Complete torture. And then I'll have my wonderful husband turn your intestines into sausages and feed them to that dog you thought it was a good idea to hit." The captor's hand gripped onto Ansel's shoulder. The knife was brought up to nose, a slow cut being made from the place between his eyebrows to the tip. 

He could feel the man shift behind him and Ansel turned his head, attempting to follow the man's motions. Within a blink the blade was brought down onto his restrained hand, sliding through the skin on the back smoothly. The victim hissed out in pain through his teeth, attempting to follow the man's order to stay quiet. 

His captor knelt in front of him as the knife was withdrawn, blood shining on the blade. Ansel choked out a sob, more blood beginning to spill from the open wound. Tears fell down his cheeks as the man slowly licked the blood from the blade. 

"You even taste like scum." The other muttered out, throwing a dissatisfied look at the red liquid. "Shouldn't be a surprise. Y'know I used to dream about killing people like you, hated the only justice they got was maybe a few years in prison. Now, I can give you what you truly deserve." 

The blade was brought down on the other hand and his captor stepped away, seemingly to grab something out. Ansel gave a groan, trying to smother the sound as he cried. He watched as his captor reached out into the shadows, being handed another blade. Someone else was here and aiding in his torture. 

"First, I'll do the fingers. Then maybe the hand. Take off what you used to hurt our Cephi." He shook his head and made his way back to the man on the chair. "Perhaps I'll take your tongue since you shouted at her. Maybe I can cut you in half and have you stationed to sniff your own ass." 

More tears poured down his cheeks as the man's spoke. He was terrified, trembling in the chair while the man spouted off his foreseeable torture with chuckles. His hand was lifted, a blade pressing itself against the base of his forefinger and his sobs caught in his throat with another spike of panic. 

"A beautiful attempt to finally make ourselves known within the town." The second man from the shadows spoke as the blade pressed into his skin. A chill ran down Ansel's spine when he recognized the voice. It wasn't one he'd know for long but it was a thick and foreign accent he'd place anywhere. The customer at his stall. 

"H-H-Harrison… Harrison Lancaster?" He stuttered out, despite his order to stay silent. The finger was cut off with his words brutally and he received a glare as he cried out in pain. 

"I would stay quiet if I were you, Mr. Windsor. My mongoose doesn't appreciate when his victims make intelligible noise, especially someone as low as you." The voice came up again. The man holding onto his hand moved to his middle finger, carefully carving through skin and bone as blood coated both of their appendages. 

"P-please stop! Don't do this! Why are you doing this!?" Ansel cried out, ignoring the advice and staring up at the man mutilating him with begging eyes. His middle finger was disconnected and fell into his lap. The knife holding one of his hands down was pulled out and came at his cheek. 

The blade slid through his cheek, reminiscent of the scar on his attacker's cheek. The knife hung there, placed within the side of his face to prevent him from articulating. If he tried, his tongue was at risk of getting cut and even the thought of moving his jaw made it throb. 

"Much better. Begging and asking for why is always so… boring and typical. You were a shitty human being and karma comes in many forms." Will shook his head and tsked, returning to his task on the man's hand. 

Ansel's fingers on both hands were taken, then his hands and tongue. Each time he threatened to pass out from blood loss he was slapped awake. The man from the shadows, the man he knew as Harrison, came forward and did his work, cutting open his torso and harvesting. The one to deliver the final killing blow was the original torturer, slamming the knife into his forehead with a final cut to nothingness. 

~~~

Will slowly lifted his hand, running his fingers through the short fur. Cephi was curled comfortable at his side, giving gentle huffs to show her contentment. He was laid on his side, allowing his recently washed hair to dampen the pillow. The dog had leapt up next to him, spinning around before flopping next to his stomach. 

His eyes flickered open at the feeling of the sheets moving. Hannibal was sliding into place next to him, looking at the animal with a raise of his eyebrow. Encephalitis laid between them, lounging comfortably and enjoying the warmth. Slowly lifting a hand above the covers, Hannibal began to gently rub her head as well. 

Will pulled himself closer to his husband, tucking the canine in between them. A smile settled on his face, a gentle and tranquil gesture Hannibal hadn’t seen until after the fall. Moving his head over, he pressed his forehead against his husband’s. The wetness of his curls was cold against Hannibal, but the other made no action of discomfort or rejection. 

“How long do you think it’ll take people to find him?” Will spoke, lightly scratching the dog’s back. Her tail began to thump against the sheets happily. They had left Ansel in his home, just as he suggested sniffing his own behind. A wire had been tied around his neck to symbolize a leash, the hollow inside without his intestines being filled with his fingers, hands, and tongue. 

“I imagine a neighbor will become suspicious when he doesn’t leave his house for an extended period. A week or so is my thought.” Hannibal responded, running his fingers along the base of her neck. She seemed to be in canine heaven, being presented with food, water, a bath, a bed, and more love than she would ever hope for. 

“You’ve had your names before. I wonder what they’ll call me.” Will lifted his eyes from the animal to look at Hannibal, an eyebrow raising. 

“Something dog-like if you continue with a theme.” Hannibal nodded, hand pulling from the dog to run through his husband’s wet curls. 

“I imagine I will. I understand the appeal… ridding the world of scum. Coming down from that adrenaline high is killing me.” He gave a quiet chuckle, eyes fluttering shut with a slow sigh.   
“The performance was beautiful. Wonderful presentation as well. He’ll make some wonderful sausages Cephi will enjoy.” Hannibal gave a nod, tilting himself forward to brush their lips together. Will rolled his eyes, nudging the dog out of the way and rolling carefully over to his husband. 

He pressed their lips together, a kiss filled with love and growing ferver. Hannibal kissed back, sliding his hands over the thin t-shirt covering the other’s torso. Encephalitis crawled over to the foot of the bed, returning to her curled position as Will pressed Hannibal down into the mattress. 

“That performance got you a little hot and bothered. I could see it when you handed me that knife.” Will whispered against the other’s lips, a grin from both following. 

The night’s activities were far from done, Cephi eventually jumping off the bed when their movements became too frantic for her liking. She curled up in Will’s pile of laundry, the sounds and smells of sex filling the bedroom as the two enjoyed each other. Hannibal was more than happy with the path he was on, seeing Will finally tap into his potential and pull him flush against his body sent admiration soaring through his body. He was somewhat wary about how many more dogs Will would take in, but if each hunt ended in such a beautiful way he could settle living with a pack of 7 or so animals. 


End file.
